Inside the prison
of this flesh and blood
and beating heart;
inside the coiled sinew
and bone scraping bone
and metal plates;
inside the cracking joints
and the graying hair
and the wanting to be better
is the part of me
that wants to be
but in reality
is as rusty
as an Anderson shelter.
10 comments:
Oh, yes. I know that feeling well. Amazing. Love the painting, too, Rachel.
Thank you Steph :)
What's an Anderson shelter Rachel?
A tin-roofed home air-raid shelter from the war.
http://www.fortunecity.co.uk/meltingpot/oxford/330/shel/shel2.html
Oh dear, Rachel, you need oiling, like me. Every time I move something cracks or creaks somewhere. Hugs to you.
I do Gina. It was the ju-jitsu injuries that did it, but I still don't regret doing the sport.
Have spent a few minutes reading about these Rachel. I wouldn't feel safe in one at all!
They were generally underground and covered with earth.
Great drawing.
Thank you!
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